For Now
by chris-daae
Summary: Maybe one day that dream life wouldn't be just a dream.
1. For Now

Christine sighed in relief when she saw him on the bed. Erik finally gave up and went to sleep.

His mind seemed to never stop. Christine noticed in these few months living with him that he was always doing something- composing or playing or drawing or even writing. And when Erik was really focused on his creation, he wouldn't spend his precious time filling mere human needs. He would skip meals (with the excuse that he would eat later), spend nights awake, and Christine sometimes felt he wasn't even aware of her. It hurt her, to not have the attention of her own husband, but these habits made her more worried than anything. Though he claimed he didn't feel tired or hungry, she knew his body could not keep up with this. By now she was pretty sure the reason he was so thin was because he didn't bother to eat enough.

Christine did scold him. All the time. She sometimes felt like she was raising a baby. And it wouldn't be all bad if he wasn't so stubborn. She wouldn't mind being the one to remind Erik of what he had to do to stay alive, if he actually listened to her once in a while.

It was good to see him in bed for a change. In the last week, Christine only saw Erik taking some short naps in uncomfortable positions. He was probably exhausted. He was bare faced, Christine conviced him to take the damn mask off at least to sleep. Sure, he wasn't good looking, but Christine really hated the mask. She hated how she could not read his expression when he wore it. And she knew Erik wore it to feel more like a "normal person", but sometimes she thought it had the opposite effect. She planned on getting rid completely of it someday, but knowing his stubborness, she needed to take baby steps. Maybe one day.

Maybe one day she could trespass the barriers he put around himself.

* * *

Erik wasn't asleep. Sleep has always been hard for him, and it was even more now that he didn't live alone.

He knew Christine was in the room, and did his best to stay still and keep his breathing even. He was good at pretending.

Things should be good now. They should be happy, living a dream life. Erik had money, and they had each other, and they were married. They had a nice house, Christine kept her job as a singer and not even the malicious gossips about her mysterious husband seemed to get in the way of her career.

Everything was perfect. That was what he had always wanted right?

The couple shared a room and a bed, but that was the most intimacy they had. Erik would never ask her for more. Christine did held his hand pretty often, and he didn't have any complaint about it. And that was it.

Erik liked taking care of the house while she was away. He had been doing it for years when living alone, and it was much better now that there was someone to notice it. A new sheet, a change in the position of the couches or a new decoration. Christine didn't always notice but when she did it made his day. They also had a beautiful garden, and Erik found taking care of the plants relaxing.

Yet, it wasn't a dream life. There was something off, floating in the air between them, a tension that they never mentioned but that Erik felt every moment of the day, and he was sure Christine felt it too.

He couldn't face her. Being with her was all he wanted but it also suffocated him. With guilt, with shame. It didn't matter what he did or how much he gave her, he knew it would never make up for everything she sacrificed to be there with him.

It wasn't on purpose, but he was avoiding her. He would pretend he didn't notice when Christine was around, that he was too focused on his work. What work really, he silently laughed to himself. Since they started living together he wasn't able to make anything that met his insanely high standarts. He avoided their room, and he avoided their bed most of all.

But Erik wouldn't tell her.

No. If it was up to him, she would never know about how it was eating him alive to have her tied to him forever. Because if she ever confirmed it, if he heard from her own lips how much it hurt her to be with him, it would kill him.

Sometimes, he thought that this would be the only way to give this story a happy ending.

Didn't he know the woman he married? Didn't he know that, though Christine feared the dark side he sometimes showed, she would have never let him have his way so easily if it was not her way too? He didn't.

Erik didn't know that Christine would have chosen him anyway, that her love was real and that it was not born of fear. He couldn't see it because he was too busy hating himself. That was all he was ever taught to do: to hate himself.

He was never taught how to be a husband.

But maybe one day he would know. Maybe one day that dream life wouldn't be just a dream. But for now, Erik pretended to be asleep until he heard the door closing. Christine left the room, satisfied. For now.


	2. Dear

A/N: _Thank you for all the kind feedback! I hope everyone enjoys the sequel._

* * *

"Lunch is ready, Erik.", Christine announced.

"I am not hungry right now, dear, I will eat later.", Erik replied, not even raising his eyes from the papers where he wrote.

"I finally have a day off, and I was hoping we could enjoy some time together. Are you really going to stay locked in your office all day?"

Christine's voice sounded both hurt and accusing. Erik sighed in defeat.

"Just give me a minute, I am going."

Before Erik could even take a bite of the food, Christine asked:

"Are you wearing this at the table?"

Erik knew that by "this", she meant the mask.

"Why not?"

"It's rude, and I like looking at my husband once in a while."

Erik let out a short laugh.

"What is so funny?", Christine asked, irritated.

Erik stared at her for a moment.

"What is wrong with you today, dear?"

She seemed to be in a bad mood. Erik really could not think of what could have caused it. He had been behaving well, staying in his office instead of bothering her.

"Nothing is wrong. This is how I am. You would know if you got out of that damn office once in a while."

Was it maybe that time of the month, Erik wondered. No, there was still a week left. Maybe her work was stressing her?

"Erik, please take it off.", Christine insisted, now with a softer voice.

"I don't like taking it off and you know it.", Erik mumbled.

Christine sighed.

"Yes, I know it. Sorry.", she looked away. "I just would like to look at you when we talk, instead of some expressionless cheap cloth."

Erik did not reply. He also would like to have a decent face to look at Christine with, but there was nothing he could do.

They started eating in silence.

"Meg is pregnant.", Christine said, after a while.

"That's good for her.", Erik replied.

"She has been married for only a year and is already having a child.", she sounded a bit jealous. Erik stopped eating. "Her husband is very loving. Meanwhile, I have been married for three years and it feels like I live with a rock."

"I am sorry if I am not as charming as a nobleman.", Erik replied, using sarcasm to hide the hurt.

"Not everything is about your face, Erik.", Christine retorted, knowing very well it was the only thing he was thinking of.

Erik lowered his head.

"I am not pleasant for you in any way, right? I am not only terribly ugly, but also terrible to be around."

"That's not what I meant."

Erik was glad that he was sitting, because he could feel his legs shaking. He knew this moment would come. He knew Christine would one day have enough. It didn't make it any easier.

"Then what exactly do you mean, dear?", he asked the inevitable question.

Could he handle it? Hearing all the reasons why she regretted the day she said "yes"? He had to. He deserved this punishment.

"'Dear'. When was the last time you said my name, Erik?"

Erik took a while to understand. He didn't even notice, that instead of calling Christine by her name, he started calling her only "dear".

Still, he didn't know what this had to do with the disaster of their marriage.

"Do you even love me?", she asked.

"I do.", Erik replied.

"Do you? Or did you just want to have a wife, like everyone else?"

"I would not want a wife that I don't love." Wasn't this how it worked? Or maybe making a woman his wife was so selfish, so horrible that if he truly loved Christine, he should never have wished it for her. Was it what she meant?

"Really? Because sometimes I feel like you only married to tick off an item a list of whatever standart you feel that you have to fit into."

"Where did you even get this idea from?", Erik asked, confused. He felt in the middle of a puzzle he couldn't solve, and it felt horrible. He was confused and frustrated and he didn't even know how to respond to her accusations, very different from the ones he imagined he would hear every day and night.

"From you! I know you feel like you don't fit, and I know that you desperately want to. And I know that this may be enough for you, but it's not for me.", Christine was getting teary. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I know you lived alone for a long time. I know it's not nice to have someone suddenly disturbing your peace and your routine. I understand it."

She paused.

"But I don't like it. This is not a marriage, Erik. I could be okay with us not... touching. But there are days when we don't even talk! You won't look at me, you won't say my name. This is not what a marriage is. A marriage is supposed to be about sharing. I don't know if I am doing something wrong or if this is just not what you wanted."

Erik just looked at her, not knowing what to say. He had no idea Christine felt this way. He avoided her for her own sake, so she would have her own space and maybe even forget the terrible reality of being married to a monster like him. How could he imagine his actions were actually hurting her?

It was really a situation in which she could not win.

"Dear...", the word was out before he could stop himself. And before he could say anything to fix his mistake, Christine stood up.

"I will clean the kitchen.", she said, almost running out of the room.

Erik had to calm his own body, that was still shaking, before he could follow her.

Christine stood by the sink, her back to the door, her head low. Erik slowly approached her, and said in a soft voice:

"If I had anything good to share, you can be sure I would share it all with you."

He would always wear gloves, to spare his wife of any accidental touch with his dead-like skin. But he took them off to eat, and didn't replace them before running to the kitchen. Slowly, giving Christine enough time to understand his intention, and pull away if she wanted to, he approached his hand to hers, and held it.

Christine didn't pull away. She welcomed the touch.

"And who said you don't?", she asked.

"I know I don't. I am horrible. Outside and inside.", he was quick to add. "There is nothing I could offer you."

Christine shook her head. She put her hand over his.

"When we met, you would always listen to my worries and rantings. Of course, I didn't see you so you could very well be sleeping.", her lips curled up. "I didn't have many friends, and I didn't want to bother anyone with my fears and worries and sadness. But you, you listened to me, and you comforted me."

Christine paused to wipe a tear from her eyes.

"There were days I could not even get up from my bed. When I met you, I was broken. I felt broken. But thanks to you, I could be whole again. You didn't only help me find my voice, you helped me find my confidence, my determination. You gave me a reason to wake up everyday, you helped me rediscover my passion. It's all thanks to you, Erik."

Erik was speechless. He was unused to hear praises or words of gratitude. How could he reply?

"I love you.", Christine continued. "You may be horrible, as you say, but it doesn't change that I love you. You were my best friend when I needed it the most. And I know", she raised her hand to his chest. "I know there is good there. I know because you let me see it, with no masks or disguises, under all these layers of coldness and bitterness, that there is the desire and the potential to make beautiful things. And I am not talking only about your art."

Erik lowered his head. He was sure that Christine could feel how fast his heart was beating, for not even in his wildest dreams he could imagine hearing such words.

"I love you, Christine.", was all he could say. But he saw the sad smile on her face. "You don't believe me."

"Why do you love me, Erik?"

"You were the first woman- no, the first person to ever show me kindness."

"Only that?", Christine asked, suddenly pulling away. "That could have been anyone."

"It couldn't. In all my years- and they were many- I never met anyone like you. Your soul is wonderful, Christine. So wonderful that I couldn't even start describing it."

As she didn't reply, he continued:

"Even in your darkest time, you could still believe. Faith, and not only religious faith, is something that left me long ago. But after meeting you, I dared to hope again, I dared to believe again. To believe that things could be different, that things could be better. I was in a literal abyss before I met you, Christine. And I didn't even know that I wanted to get out of it. I didn't even know that I wanted to have a normal life, that I wanted to stop hiding. And you didn't only gave me hope that I could have it, but you also gave me strength to pursue them."

Christine turned back to him, a smile fighting its way to her lips.

"Do you mean it?"

"Of course I do."

Erik moved his hands to each of her arms, more bolder than his last movement, but still slow enough that she could pull away if she wanted. Once again she didn't.

"I would not let just anyone come disturb my peace and my routine."

Christine chuckled, and raised her hand to his face. But as her fingers touched his mask, she pulled away, fearing she was dreaming too high.

Erik noticed. He lowered his head.

"The last thing I would want would be to make you uncomfortable, Christine. I know I have not been a good husband. But I thought you would rather... I mean... I didn't want to..."

He didn't need to finish for her to understand it.

"Why would I not want to be near my husband, the man that I married because I love him?"

"You can love me, but still not like this. I can understand."

Christine shook her head.

"I would rather be with the real you, anytime.", she lowered her head. "But it's okay if you don't want to. The last thing I would want would be to make you uncomfortable."

"Just... give me some time. I am used to this. It makes me feel safe."

For Erik, showing his face was making himself vulnerable, and he hated this idea. But he would make an effort, for Christine.

"Take all the time you need, dear." They exchanged a look at the use of the word. "Just please, don't ignore me anymore."

"Never again, dear.", Erik said, holding his wife. For the first time, the word "wife" came to his mind without the guilty that usually accompanied it. "My dear Christine."


End file.
